#once someone sent me death threats because of one of my coping mechanisms

[thehellsystem]

I think I was a fucked up twelve year old I'm gonna be real

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (VI)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: I just don’t understand how Mark is getting so much hate??? Absolutely adore the man, so much fun to write problematic characters. But seriously, he needs to check his inbox, because I think multiple death threats have been sent already. Love you lot!

Sorry this took me so long, by the way. I had to rewrite it because the first draft was shit. And I think I’m just gonna throw the uploading schedule out the window, because it’s not fun that way for me anymore. I want writing to still be something I can find relief in, not stress.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Song recommendations: Dance Little Liar by Arctic Monkeys, or A Tragic Fate from the Professor Layton soundtrack

Chapter VI - Mad Sounds

When she was younger, her parents were thinking about divorcing. And that’s really something to deal with at such a young age. So, she found solace in the only things her mum had lying around; books.

Books had been the only reliable thing in her entire life. The words were solid on paper, the storyline was set, and it had an end and a beginning. Nothing she had to go through; she only had to be a spectator from above, able to criticise people for the mistakes they made and commend heroes for their virtuous adventures.

It’s why she would describe her life to be something of a book. However, it was a story that seemed to have no ending. An intricate plotline that just kept on going, daring her to just mark the page and close the cover on it whenever she was getting sick of it. To just leave those heavy chapters weighing her down behind her, never to look back.

She felt like she was only at the middle of the story, where things should be going easier, because she could just leave her book open without the pages turning on their own because of the stiffness of the brand-new cover.

She had it all, really; though sometimes still in doubt, her parents were together, she had a man she could rely on who she would marry, and a nice apartment to get back to.

She barely felt the raindrops touching her face, as her entire body appeared to be numb.

She stood there, in front of the restaurant, for what seemed like ages, until the bells of the church struck eleven, and she was still unsure of why she was unable to move any of her limbs.

Warm hands touched her arms, comfortable, yet firm. They must have noticed how cold she was getting, because they draped a dark jacket over her shoulders. “You’re shivering,” she vaguely heard, “Let’s get you somewhere warm, shall we?”

She nodded, the events of the evening finally playing back all over again. Her stomach felt heavy, and her heart was beating at a faster rate than it usually was. “Do you think he’ll come back?” she muttered.

Brown eyes swept over her, and a chill went down her spine. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking; she only saw a calculated determination to make sure she was okay. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “But I know he wouldn’t want you to have caught something by the time he gets back.”

She barely gave a nod of her head, which was enough indication for Alex to tuck her under his arm, and walk her through the empty streets of a rainy Sheffield. At the very least, the downpour would hide the fact that hot tears were silently slipping down her face.

 She must’ve looked like a real mess; standing shivering in a soaked wet dress in front of a brick building, tucked tightly between other brick buildings, as Alex fumbled with his keys. Once finally catching his bearings, he was able to twist the lock open, and push back the door that were adorned with gleaming golden numbers reading ‘505’.

It was a shared complex, with an apartment downstairs and one up, which was Alex’ place.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, but the home was quite cosy, most likely because of it’s size, and if she had to describe its contents in a few words, they would be ‘retro simplicity’.

Brown leather couches which looked very well worn made up most of the living room, along with a radio that sat upon a wooden cabinet stashed with liquor of all sorts. One of the walls was almost entirely covered by built-in shelves, holding many books and records alike, but leaving just enough room to be able to open the door on that very same wall.

The radio was still softly playing old tunes, with hints of soul and jazz. The rain tapping against the windows had almost drowned the sound out completely, if she hadn’t been standing so close to it. Alex turned up the volume a tad.

“I recognize that song,” she said, “my mum used to play it a lot when my grandmother passed away. It was her favourite song.”

“She had good taste,” he replied with a friendly crook of his mouth. He staggered off to the kitchen, and she heard him put the kettle on as she hesitantly took a seat on one of the large sofa’s. If it hadn’t been leather, she wouldn’t have even dared to step close to them.

“I know it’s not much. But it’s home.” He handed her a steaming cup, and almost simultaneously drew a blanket over her lap. He suddenly paused, and glanced up at her, “I’m sorry, I just assumed you took milk and sugar.”

She shook her head, “That’s the way I like it.”

He hummed, and sat down in front of her on the coffee table.

“I should apologize,” he said.

She gave him a questioning look, inviting him to explain.

“I crossed the line with the way I was acting back at the restaurant. I was being a total arse, and quite possibly just ruined any chance of maybe remaining in touch with you altogether. I’d understand you wouldn’t want me to come to your wedding. Hell, you barely even know me.”

Her gaze didn’t waver from his, as she took a moment to think. “For some reason, I feel like I’ve known you all my life. I can’t say I’ve ever met someone who I was able to talk so freely with from the get-go, and I can only say that it sort of frightens me.”

“Why?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I suppose you can understand that it might seem quite odd to my fiancée that I’m parading about town with another man in the middle of the night, one I met only a few evenings before at that.”

He gave her a look. “That’s not what I was asking.”

“Why were you being an ass towards Mark?” she continued, decidedly avoiding the question.

He hesitated, his hands gripping the edges of the table a bit tighter, as if they kept him from falling over or summat. “Annoyance. Jealousy, perhaps.”

“Jealousy?”

He huffed, “Don’t tell me you didn’t quite figure that out yet. You’re a writer. I see someone being lousy towards a pretty girl, or anyone just around a pretty girl, for that matter, when I know they could be doing so much better. It bothers me.”

“So I’m just a pretty girl?”

“What would you want me to think of you as, then?”

He got her there. But she wasn’t yet willing to let it all go. “And what would be so much better for me? You? You barely even know me, perhaps I’m a horrible person. Perhaps Mark is the one that could do so much better.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I didn’t see you walking away from an argument.”

She stiffened slightly in her seat, thinking back on all other times they had had a fight. “Mark is just… he needs to cool down. It’s just his way of handling things, and I can only respect that.”

“And what happens when he doesn’t cool down?” he daringly asked.

This time, the look she gave him was a clear warning. He had indeed crossed boundaries tonight, more so than what should even be considered okay if they had been close friends. But they weren’t, and she was starting to take notice of the fact that she was quite easily giving her trust to this man.

“I can honestly say, and smack me across the face if you must, but after that brief meeting we had, I knew you shouldn’t marry him. You don’t fit together, and that’s not because of your lack of trying or incapacity to agree on certain things, but it’s because I can tell that there’s something going on between you that you don’t want to talk about.”

She didn’t slap him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was as if he had smacked her across the face with a harsh reality she had been trying to hide. And only then did something she had been wondering since the moment she met him cross her mind once more.

“You’re…” Yes, that must be it. “No, never mind.”

He shook his head, “Humour me.”

“Don’t start laughing at me.”

“I never would.”

She got off the couch, and strode across the room with a sudden surge of energy she hadn’t been sure could still muster up before. She looked out across the window, over the smoking chimneys of old Sheffield, and it was as if everything just clicked in her mind.

“You’re… You’re not real, are you?”

He didn’t respond, but she didn’t need him to.

“You’re just a figment of my imagination,” she muttered, her thoughts finally able to form into verbal words. She looked down at her hands, as if they were the only thing that kept her from spiralling. “A hallucination of a chronic insomniac. You’re nothing but a dream, a test. I’m just dealing with a lot of emotions and stress, and this is all a coping mechanism…”

“A test?” he asked distantly.

“A test to see if I’m really ready to get married.”

When she heard him hum, he was a lot closer than she expected, and had already felt the heat radiating off his chest on her back before he’d even made a noise. Turning around, she was met with a dark pair of eyes, a gaze so intense she felt like her feet were suddenly cemented to the floor.

His shirt was sticking to his chest, leaving nothing to the imagination, and the fringe at the top of his head was as messy as her ragged breaths.

“If I’m just a dream, how can I do this?”

She didn’t stop him when he tilted his head, nor when his warm lips met hers with a gentle fire. Passionately, and slowly, they moved against hers, until the tingling sensation it sent through her made it impossible for her to refrain. And so, she kissed him back.

Nothing like what she’d ever felt with anyone else, something almost too good to be true. Like first kiss, hesitant and new, but with an unrealistic perfection. It shouldn’t feel this way. Her hand running across his wet chest shouldn’t make her want to pull him only closer. Her hips shouldn’t feel such satisfaction as he squeezed them and pulled them against his.

Her eyes opened, not even having realized she had had them closed right as skin met skin, and when she wasn’t met with a curly bush of brown, but only a slicked back messy fringe of pure perfection, she panicked.

“I… I have to go.” It was barely muttered against his lips, but he’d heard it.

He was unable to say any more, as she had somehow already rushed through the room and down the steps. And as the front door slammed shut with a finality, she had left him. And he continued to spend his night like any other night; all alone.

 Last night had felt like a dream, something that didn’t sedate the terrifying realization she’d had when the dots finally connected. She lay awake all night, her eyes barely blinking as they continued to glare at the red digital numbers on her alarm clock, until she turned it off precisely a minute before it would start blaring.

She had thought about just staying in bed for the rest of the day. She had also thought about calling Mark. But Mark would call her, those were the rules. If he called her, he had cooled off and everything would be fine again. It would all go back to normal, and she would never go to town in the dark again. Not ever did she have to see his face again.

But her plans went out the window to just keep waiting underneath her comfortable sheets, which had made sure her dress was dry by now, when she heard her mum open the front door and invite people in.

A few minutes after she was called to join them for breakfast, and that she shouldn’t have to worry about wearing her pyjamas like she always did.

So, she did the sane thing and got changed into her pyjamas, cleaned her face of all blotches of makeup and headed downstairs.

At the dining table sat a couple who appeared to be around her mother’s age, with greying features, but kind eyes. They seemed vaguely familiar, so she was unsure of whether she had to introduce herself or not. If she somehow did know them, she would look like a fool.

But thankfully, her mother took notice.

“Grab a plate dear, and join us.” She did as was told, as her mother continued to talk about how she met the couple in one of her group couple therapy sessions, ones she and her father still attended regularly.

She’d only gotten to point of introducing them to her when she had already sat down, something she was thankful for, because if she hadn’t been, she would’ve most definitely fallen over.

“These are mister and missus Turner.”

Her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach, as her eyes met the brown orbs of what was most assuredly Alex Turner’s mother.

“-They were just telling me about their son.”

And oh, how she wished she could’ve just closed the book by now.

***

@alexbandguy86​​​ @bettyschwallocksyee​​​ @fookingsummertime​​​​ @juicebox-baby​​​@darksydork7​​​ @edgythought​​​ @ssadderdaze​​​​ @h0twasabi​​​​ @rogerseyeliner​​​​ @zcars777 @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo​ @rosemallowss​​​

[dyde21]

Lone Wolf 1: The Meeting

So I reread the amazing the amazing werewolf!AU HERE by @somethingmorecreative1 that @percyyoulittleshit reblogged recently and it honestly filled me with inspiration for my own sort of werewolf AU. I have a lot of ideas for this AU already honestly. Warning, a bit angsty in this chapter. A short part one!

XxXxXxXxX

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Annabeth sighed and tried to reign in her frustration. “Are you seriously telling me we have no idea where this rogue is?” She said, her voice steely and even. 

Piper squirmed slightly under the gaze of her alpha. It was clear the frustration wasn’t directed at her, she was just the messenger, but she could tell Annabeth’s temper was flaring up. 

Piper nodded, taking a deep breath. “Will and Nico both haven’t seen him recently.”

Annabeth dropped her head into her hands. “I assume he hasn’t just… left?” 

Piper shook her head out of habit. “They found two dead deer, and a hiker reported a large ‘bear like creature.’ Yesterday.” 

Annabeth leaned back in her office chair, annoyed. “So he’s somewhere where our best trackers can’t find him, yet close enough that he’s able to hunt recklessly in our area and risk exposing us. I don’t know if he’s cocky or stupid or both.”

Piper shrugged. “He’s probably just desperate.” 

Looking out the window, Annabeth knew her beta was probably right. It was true werewolves could survive by just hunting animals in their animal form, but most of them just preferred to eat normal, human meals. If he was hunting regularly, it meant he couldn’t. Which meant he was probably a loner who wandered into their territory. 

But he hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself, which was customary. They wouldn’t have had any of these problems if he had just stopped by. They could have talked, and sent him on his way, or even invited him to the pack. 

But no, this idiot had to play a dangerous game of hide and go seek which could wind up with all of them dead. 

“Annabeth?” Piper asked after a moment, jolting her from her thoughts. She realized she hadn’t actually said anything in a few minutes, leaving her best friend hanging. “Fine. Just let me know if we get any useful information. If you can find willing people, add another shift to patrols just looking for him. I want this resolved before someone gets hurt.” Annabeth really tried to avoid giving direct orders if she could help it. Her title of Alpha was undisputed, and they knew she could snap them in line if needed, but as long as they knew that it was fine for Annabeth. She took pride in a well behaved pack rather than one under martial law like many others. 

Piper nodded, moving towards the door before pausing. “You look awful.” 

Annabeth growled at her slightly, before she felt a slightly sweaty curl fall in front of her face from her messy bun and realized Piper wasn’t actually wrong. Letting out an annoyed huff, she just turned her attention back to her laptop. “I know.” She resigned.

“Get some rest.” Piper ordered, but knew that she shouldn’t press Annabeth any further at the moment. 

Childishly Annabeth just stuck her tongue out at the girl as she closed the door. She was exhausted, but it was hardly her fault. There were not one, but two business deals she was in the middle of negotiations for. Her territory was being harassed by some lone wolf that could either be in need of aid, or a rampaging danger to her pack, and the last threat of luke was still echoing in her head. She really wanted to get drunk, but her stupid genes made her body burn out the alochol short of incredibly amounts which made it not really worth it, poor coping mechanisms aside.

Deciding to work for a bit, she hoped following her usual routine would help ease the tension before she ended up snapping at some poor pack member that didn’t deserve it.

Luckily, the right playlist on spotify and a solid project did help her focus, even if her gaze drifted out the window once or twice towards the forest where the pain in her ass was hiding somewhere. 

XxXxXxXxX

Things were fine. That’s at least what Annabeth had been telling herself. The business deals had gone rather well, and the stranger hadn’t made himself known recently which meant he had hopefully moved on. Things were finally looking up and Annabeth was glad to be catching a break. She knew the life of an Alpha was always a difficult one, but it was times like these that she enjoyed sitting back and appreci-

“He’s back.” Piper said frantically, blasting into her office, holding her arm with a cloth. The smell of blood hit Annabeth’s nose and she shot to her feet, feeling the inner wolf snarling at attention. 

Who had hurt her Beta?

Annabeth was about to move the cloth when Piper stepped back, glaring at her. “Oh calm down.”

“What happened? Is it Luke?” Annabeth snapped, her anger unrestrained. 

Piper just leveled her gaze at her Alpha, having been with her for so long she wasn’t fazed by the girl’s outbursts much anymore. 

“No. It’s the stranger. I met him.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened. “And he attacked you? Call Clarisse and Beckendorf. We’re going hunting. Now.” She ordered. 

Piper shook her head. “Wait, it’s not what you think.”

“I don’t care. He hurt you. That’s a death sentence-”

“ANNABETH!” Piper snapped, making the blonde pause. The annoyance her pride was feeding her was outweighed by the shock. Her friend rarely raised her voice at her. At least outside of a joking manner.

“What?” She asked, eyes narrowing. 

Piper flinched back slightly, realizing she was still talking to her Alpha. 

I think… he’s scared.” She started.

Annabeth paused, rage being replaced with a mild curiosity. “What?” She repeated, less harshly. 

“I could smell him hunting nearby so I tracked him down. He was finishing off a deer when I got there. Annabeth… he didn’t look good. He was thin, and his eyes looked wild. I tried to calm him down and talk to him but he panicked and attacked me. Once he saw when he did he ran away instead of trying to fight.”

Annabeth digested the information, still staring at her friends arm. 

Piper rolled her eyes, sighing out of frustration. “Oh relax. It was just a cut. It’s pretty much healed already.” She said, moving the cloth to show her that the wound had in fact closed and was starting to fade.

“He might leave now. If he ran after attacking you, it’s clear he wasn’t looking for a fight. The best chance he would have had would be you alone yet he didn’t try to kill you. He might get spooked and move on.”

Piper nodded. “Maybe. But there’s no much free space to hunt around us. Reyna’s pack is just to the west of us, and all other directions are sparse in hunting areas.” Piper paused, looking down. “Annabeth… I’m worried. He really didn’t look good.”

Running a hand through her hair, Annabeth sighed. “We can’t afford to be kind hearted now. He attacked you and could bring more trouble. We need to protect the pack, and some rogue wolf is a threat. He needs to leave, for his sake. I won’t let him hurt anyone else.” Annabeth said, ignoring her own heart yearning to help a wolf that was desperate and alone. She had too many lives in her hands to naively follow her whims.

Piper nodded, but was clearly unhappy with her decision. Annabeth sighed but didn’t have much of a choice. “Piper.” She ordered, making her friend look up. 

“You are not allowed to run off and do something stupid to try and ‘help him’”. She said, making it clear it was an order.

Piper glared at her, but nodded. “Fine.” She muttered, mildly annoyed her plan had already been found out. 

Annabeth walked over, resting a hand on Piper’s arm. “I know you mean well. You’re the best of us all. But the pack… I can’t afford to lose you. It’s too dangerous.”

Piper just sighed nodding. “May I go?”

Annabeth nodded. “I’ll be back soon. Just have a little more work.”

Piper nodded, before leaving. 

Leaning back in her chair, Annabeth hated how complicated her life had gotten because of some desperate wolf. She really wished he would just move on and find help somewhere. She was too worried about the stability her pack was lucky with to introduce some foreign element into it. 

Finishing a little more work Annabeth decided to call it early to head back. She needed to clear her head.

XxXxXxXxX

Running through the forest the massive wolf let out a bark, and the wolves trailing behind her split off into their own paths. 

This wasn’t really an official hunt as much as a social outing. Keeping the pack together and letting them blow off steam. She wasn’t too worried about keeping them in line right now, and they would all be close enough in case anyone got in trouble. 

Admittedly she was a bit nervous about that rogue wolf still, but it had been a week since there had been any trace of him so hopefully he had moved on. 

Piper was the last at her side, but with a quick nudge of her head, Piper too went off to run on her own, maybe hunting down a deer. Annabeth wasn’t particularly hungry yet, so she just lowered to a gentle trot through the forest, keeping her ears and nose open for any sense of danger. She was content enjoying the quiet night and letting them have their fun. The run had been enough stress relief for her. 

Annabeth had just laid down on a massive tree stump when she heard the howl. It was Will’s. And… it was about an intruder. But it didn’t sound like the usual danger one. Instantly Annabeth realized their “friend” must have been back. Pushing herself, Annabeth sprinted as fast as she could towards the source of the howl. Piper was at her side in moments, and soon they caught up to Will. The large wolf pointed towards one direction, and Annabeth caught the scent. Sending Piper to the left and Will to the right, Annabeth headed straight towards it. 

It was time to put an end to their strange game of hide and seek, one way or another. 

Annabeth was the first one to catch up to it. 

The massive black wolf was running from her, but it seemed… slow. Like it should have been much faster than it was able to run. 

The second she got close enough it whipped around, growling intensely, but backing up slightly. Annabeth let out a howl, letting the others know to stay close but not join her yet. 

Standing tall, Annabeth approached it, demanding all the respect an Alpha deserved. It just backed up more, clearly looking for a way to escape. It turned left, as if to run, but Piper emerged from the bushes, head low and growling a clear warning. The wolf backed up a little more, only to be met with Will emerging on the other side. It snarled at all of them, before looking directly at Annabeth. The more Annabeth looked at it, the more she could tell Piper was right. It looked bad. It’s ribs were way too visible, it’s fur was matted, and it’s eyes were darting around like it was way too anxious. Understandable given the circumstances, but it didn’t seem to have any sort of composure.

Piper whined at her once, a plea for compassion. Sighing, Annabeth hated how easily she was influenced by her friend. 

Moving a bit closer to piper, she shifted back to human. Piper was close enough to protect her if the beast tried anything, but this would be her only chance to parley with it. And it’s only chance to survive the night. 

“My name is Annabeth, this is my territory and I’m the Alpha. Now who the hell are you and why have you been causing a ruckus.”

The wolf paused, clearly debating it’s options. A dangerous growl from piper made it clear trying to get a quick attack off at Annabeth was not an option, and Will mirrored him closely, blocking off any routes he could try to run. 

Seemingly out of options, the wolf lowered his head slightly, before he shifted back into a young man. He looked to be about Annabeth’s age, but he looked bad.

“I’m Percy.” He responded. 

Percy was in old, torn and dirty jeans, a stained shirt and a blue flannel. His hair was matted and he had the start of a beard. It was clear he wasn’t well fed from his overall frame, though it was hard to tell just how bad. 

“I’m just trying to survive.” He added. 

“By being obvious about hunting deer and being seen by humans? You’re lucky you aren’t dead.”

Percy let out a hollow laugh. “Some luck I have.” He muttered. 

“Why didn’t you try and find me when you got here? Why avoid us?” She pressed on, taking a step forward. 

“Cause I’m not going to bend my knee to some entitled asshole just so you can kill me the second I turn away.”

Both Piper and Will let out a growl at the insult. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed, but she kept herself in check. For as tough as his words were, it almost sounded like he wasn’t talking about her. He was trying to sound all tough and defiant, but it was clear he was just desperate.

Annabeth stared at him, thinking. “You have three options. One, behave and we’ll let you stick around and you can try and find a life here.” 

He scoffed at the idea, looking at them like he was disgusted to be around them. 

“Two. You can try and take us out, but I think you know that isn’t a good idea.” She threatened, a growl in her voice. This time Percy didn’t respond, just lowering his head slightly. It was clear he wasn’t actually looking for a fight despite his tough words. 

“Three. You can leave and try your luck somewhere else. But I don’t think you’ll get very far with your attitude.” She explained, crossing her arms. 

He just stared at her, his eyes cold as if he was trying to read her but Annabeth wasn’t phased.

She paused, loosening the tension in her shoulders slightly. “We don’t want to be your enemies. If you’re willing to give us a chance, we can help you.” She offered honestly. 

This seemed to disarm the boy slightly as his aggressive demeanor dropped. 

His eyes were searching hers for something, it was almost like a mask fell away. Instead of a dangerous rogue wolf, he was just a scared, packless boy trying to survive and Annabeth felt her heart hurt.

Next to her Piper shifted to human, raising her hands in peace. “I want to help you. We can get you food and shelter, but we need you to behave if we’re going to.” 

The boy took a step towards them, seemingly subconsciously. It was clear Piper’s words were working. 

“We can’t have someone dangerous around, but we want to help you.” 

At the word dangerous his walls shot back up as he tensed and stepped back. “I don’t believe you.”

There was a tense pause in the air, before a loud stick snapped to their right. Looking over, they saw Will, still as a wolf, looking started as he had accidentally stepped on one while circling. When they looked back Percy had already taken off running, shifting mid stride as he tore away from them. Will started to run but Annabeth called him off. “Let him go. We told him what we had to. It’s up to him now.” The large wolf trotted to her side, and Annabeth absentmindedly began petting the side of his large neck. “I just hope he makes the right choice.”

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it and if there’s interest I may add more to it. I have quite a few more ideas planned for it. If you appreciate my writing, consider checking out my art commissions HERE or checking out my art twitter HERE I really do like writing, but I’ve been trying really really hard lately to get my commissions up and running and the less I have to stress about that the more I can just write. I’ll continue this AU anyway, but I’d appreciate taking a look at least! I can throw in an immediate prompt fill with any commission. =P Either way, self promotion aside, I hope you enjoyed it and let me know if you want more!

[heartofsnark]

What's Tsuneko's Fatal Flaw? (and the Bidders, at least in your fanfic or your headcanons for them)

I debated a lot on how to best answer this and how to not just ramble about their mental health problems, like how to best define fatal flaws for them. Because if we just are discussing all of their mental health problems, what fucks them up generally, I’d be here forever. They’re are all extremely dysfunctional human beings with so many issues. So, I’m going into this like, fatal flaw isn’t just what their damage or fears are, but what I feel they do that fucks up their life the most. What do they do, that makes them their own worst enemy. Cause I don’t want it to be a 100 page epic about how fucked up they all are.  Also not including Shuichi, Hikaru, and Luke because they haven’t appeared in the fic yet. Emphasis on yet. 

A lot of Tsuneko’s issues boil down to her feeling like she has no inherent worth, the only value she has is either her successes or what she can do for people. Love is not unconditional, she doesn’t even really believe in love. She genuinely believes that the second she fails or can’t provide some worth, people will be done with her. This leads to what I would consider her fatal flaws, what  fucks her over the most, is Tsuneko’s pride and ambition. She’s spent the vast majority of her life desperately trying to be successful, to prove she matters, to make sure no one would want to leave her and hurt her. And prior to the start of the fic, her ambition lead to her failure and her pride has taken a huge hit. Even now, you see on her day off, she can’t relax. Because, while being a maid isn’t the most prideful work, it’s something. Anything worth doing is worth doing right, she needs to do something, so she’s not completely worthless. Her pride won’t let her slack, won’t let her relax, won’t let her accept help, won’t let her open up, won’t let her trust people, won’t let her be weak, it feeds into her anxiety and her anxiety feeds into her pride. She can’t fail, not again, she’s so sick of being a failure, being worthless, being weak, being pathetic, that’s why no one wants her. She just knows it, she’s convinced everyone sees through her and knows how worthless she is, so she has to fight harder to give them a reason to care. 

Remember, how me and my friend have joked lately on here about how similar Tsuneko and Eisuke are. There’s a reason. I swear to fuck it wasn’t intentional. Surprise, Eisuke is a prideful motherfucker, too! Much like Tsuneko, to my utter dismay, Eisuke fully believes his worth is transactional. He believes he has to prove himself through his successes and what he can provide, in order to mean anything and in order to pay back the insurmountable debt he owes Akira. He has to strive to be and constantly act like he’s the best, because otherwise he is nothing. This fear of being worthless and this need to be successful fuels the other behaviors that turn him into his own worst enemy, much like with Tsuneko to my absolute dismay. Can’t let people in, can’t let them hurt him, he won’t be made a fool of, he won’t have his capabilities called into question, because without his pride or success he is nothing. It also fuels him being a shit communicator which okay, Tsuneko is not a great communicator, she’s still better than Eisuke in that area. He forces this false sense of confidence, that he can just do things alone and he doesn’t need to waste his time explaining himself, because he can just do it alone. 

I do legitimately feel like, if Tsuneko had become a lawyer and was successful, she’d act a lot more like Eisuke. Less fearful on the surface, more stable, but colder and more fake. And I think, if Eisuke had failed in taking over the company, Eisuke would act more like Tsuneko does. More evident fear, more frenetic anxiety over his own worth, but also more human. 

Okay, enough about the prideful disaster children. Soryu, mobster boy. I’m so soft for him lately, he deserves better than anyone has given him. Anyway, Soryu also has some issues with his self worth and seeing himself as a danger, but the thing I think that fucks him over the most and leads to him doing things that hurt him, is Soryu’s undying loyalty.  He does not get close to people easily, not at all, but once you’re close to him, he’d die for you and kill for you within the same day. He wanted to be a detective, wanted away from the Ice Dragons, but he had to ask his grandfather first. He couldn’t just go do it, that’s not fair, he wouldn’t betray his grandfather like that. The second he sees his grandfather’s legacy and idea for the dragons being perverted, he’s abandoned what he wanted and is back in the Ice Dragons to fix it. Because loyalty to his grandfather comes before what he wants. He’s loyal and dedicated to the Ice Dragons as well, they’re family and he will protect them. (I have a headcanon that shows this to the extreme, but I’m saving that for stuff and things) Why is he so aggressive towards Tsuneko (Or MC) at the beginning of things, she’s a threat to Eisuke, not happening. He has and will kill for Eisuke, because while getting either of them to admit it is like pulling teeth, they’re basically family and mean a lot to each other. 

Sweet baby Baba, I’m also very soft for him, he deserves a lot of love. I think Baba’s biggest flaw that messes him up is that he minimizes his own problems and hides behind humor. Look at Baba he’s so funny and goofy, no one has to worry about Baba. Psych, he’s depressed and hates himself. Baba doesn’t like making himself a burden or causing other people trouble, so he buries all of his problems and makes jokes. This of course fucks him over because, surprisingly when you don’t let people know you have problems, they can’t help you or even comfort you. He buries every problem, so nothing is ever fixed. He puts up these walls of joking and being perverted, so no one gets close enough to help him. Every time anyone gets even a little close to poking at that trauma and those hidden depths, he’s brushing them off, making jokes or flirting. This is especially a double edged sword for Baba because so much of his damage comes from feeling isolated and alone, like no one cares. So, he feels alone and isolated and reacts by using humor to keep people at arms length, whice makes him feel detached,  alone and isolated because he won’t let himself build deep connections.  It’s this destructive cycle that just keeps feeding into itself. 

Ota, sweet furry gremlin, who hurt you? Oh, yeah the entire art community. I think what fucks Ota over the most is his duplicitous nature. Ota is two faced, that’s a huge part of his character, he has the real gremlin side and the fake angelic side. This fucks him over in terms of his own happiness, he hates faking the angelic person, he hates having to smile and act nice for cameras. He hates that to keep his career and to keep doing what he loves, he can’t be himself. He’s learned after the initial incident with Doi and Ota being discredited, that he can’t afford another slip up in this industry. No one in the art world gives a damn about if he’s happy, if he feels like he’s being himself. They just want him to play along, give that smile, make the art, and give the press a nice little story. He’s not at a place yet where he can afford not to give them what they want, if he slips up his entire career will be ripped out from under him all over again, and what if next time he can’t rebuild it? Living like this, not only makes him frustrated with himself, it impacts how he interacts with others. He’s not stupid, he knows anyone he meets is either wanting that sickly sweet persona or they’re waiting for a chance to take advantage of him, to undo all this work he’s put into the angelic artist bit.  So, he can’t fully let anyone in, the most they can be is a pet or acquaintance. 

Mamoru has a reputation for being a slothful lazy man and for good reason, he tends to be pretty passive, nap a lot etc. He lets a lot of shit go, especially as a cop given how much criminal activity he sees/is involved with due to the bidders. This nature fucks him over, because he doesn’t want to be like that. Mamoru’s morals as an officer are more important to him than anyone gives him credit before, he was a dedicated and talented cop at one point. Protecting people means so much to him, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. So, why is he so passive and letting so much slip by when it’s crushing him to be a dirty cop. Well, he started doing it to avenge Minami and well, the whole thing has sent Mamoru into a deep depression. We’ve seen this behavior in Mamoru before, when he was in high school, following his kendo injury. When Mamoru can’t do the things he cares about, he detaches. He can’t bother to see the point in doing anything, he’s already a dirty cop, why bother doing anything else? He’s a failure no matter what. And like a lot of these traits, it becomes a cycle. Mamoru loses Minami, this sends him into depression over how he couldn’t protect someone who meant so much to him, so he can only feel redeemed by avenging Minami in death, which means forsaking the morals he’s now built his life on, which makes him more depressed because he can’t be the clean good cop he wanted to be, his depression makes him withdraw and struggle with doing even basic tasks of cop work (or even life sometimes), which makes him feel even worse about how pathetic he is, which deepens his depression even more. 

Rhion, sweet babby, is a big fan of the coping mechanism of escapism.  So, how does this fuck him up. Well, you see Rhion has spent the majority of his life feeling completely isolated and separate from people. He was put down and mistreated for being weird, being strange. So, like a lot of people he retreated into fantasy. He retreated into fictional worlds where no one could hurt him, eventually taking it to the extreme of creating his own Wonderland, being the Hatter. But doing this, retreating into this own world just isolates him further. He sticks himself in this constant state of wanting friendship, wanting people to come in his life and stay there, but hiding away in fear because he’s terrified of being hurt. 

[hamliet]

I get what you mean but, would you love to see huge metas about how mutsuki is such a bad person and needs to be punished and that and how he is the most terrible person who doesn't have anyone into account? I think people should stay with that kind of negativitie for themeself, no one likes to see a character that they love and relate to being trashed or to feel stupid for not seeing the "real" meaning.

People could say the same about you… that you uwu mutsuki and furuta and Rize… so you shouldn’t judge like that so easily, you have a big plataform and youe words can hurt others… please consider this, maybe you don’t realize how much impact you have on others.

Hey Anon, this is again not very kind of you and really condescending. You don’t know everything except if you’re referencing a tweet I made, I presume you’ve seen the surrounding tweets which include the fact that I then got hate messages and in which I mentioned that I was in a mental health emergency the same day. If you did not see them and only saw that tweet, then you need to learn to research and learn context before spouting off, and you did see those and still sent these, honestly you need to re-evaluate yourself.

That Anon I presume you reference wound up in me getting messages to kill myself.  Can you not? I’ve gotten numerous death threats (like actual murder threats) over the past months from fans of Kaneki, so I’m not exactly in a place where I care to show any leeway. 

You accuse me of writing that Kaneki was “a bad person and needs to be punished and that and how he is the most terrible person who doesn’t have anyone into account.” Except where did I ever say that? Did I? No. I didn’t. You need to learn to find the difference between critique and hate. You’re reading your assumptions into what I said.

I think Kaneki is an excellently written character until the OEK. Then I think he is terribly written and I dislike him as a result of the story catering to everything he wanted and ignoring common sense, common decency (killing kids is bad, there’s like an entire very popular manga out about how killing kids iz bad now) and all the other characters. I also think most characters weren’t well written post OEK the exception being Furuta.

Did I say people who like him were stupid or imply it? No. I did not. That’s an assumption you brought to it.

You can still like a terribly written character and have them have a powerful impact on your life. And of course terrible writing is subjective anyways. Hell I love terrible characters. 

I’ve written before that it can feel hurtful seeing someone say they don’t like your fave because readers relate to fiction which can easily lead to them conflating their identity with a characters and then it feels personal. The thing is? This isn’t healthy. You should be able to read and understand that you are not Kaneki, and someone expressing that they don’t think he is well written and think he’s the exact definition of what I was citing which I do, is not an attack on you. It’s easier said than done but is necessary for making fiction and healthy coping mechanism. Which isn’t to say we can’t have emotional reactions, but we can allow others to have emotional reactions as well, and acknowledge their even an opposite emotional reaction is okay. 

I didn’t write a huge meta. I haven’t written a single meta on TG since like, July. That post was about Mikasa not Kaneki, and referenced a post from fucking September that had a couple paragraphs about Kaneki. Like geez Kaneki fans. It isn’t all about you. Don’t you see how absolutely ridiculous this is? 

This is what I really dislike about the TG fandom as is the reason you all have no more content: the fandom is not welcoming to other opinions besides “uwu Kaneki” and “omg Touken.” Critique is and has always been a valuable part of fandom. I’m constantly critiquing Banana Fish, Bnha, Snk, etc and guess what, these fans don’t pile on me screaming how dare you say this part isn’t well done. It’s a really strange phenomenon that the TG fandom adopted the popular opinion that critique is hate and their story must be perfect, when it isn’t. I didn’t say Kaneki deserved to suffer and die and I never believed that. I didn’t write that post to shame people who like him and indeed there is nothing in their that is directed towards people who do. The post from September wasn’t even about Kaneki, but he was helpful towards making the point of said post. If you choose to take that personally, that is a sign you have an unhealthy boundary with fiction and maybe need to reevaluate. Kaneki saved my life at one point, but I know I am not him. 

Guess what. I think the latter half of TGre is textbook bad writing. I also think the characters Ishida created and his writing up until the OEK is really excellent and regret none of my time writing for TG. Shocking you can love something and critique it. Yes the ending of TG was bad enough for me that I did not like it anymore. But that doesn’t erase the fun I had analyzing nor my previous enjoyment. Kaneki still saved my life once. 

Here’s the thing: when someone is being an asshole to you, which that Anon absolutely was even if I didn’t publish the crueler comments, it’s really fucking rude of you to be like “oh I agree with them but sorry they sent you hate.” sThat actually makes me feel worse and makes me feel like all that matters is intellectual purity and the story, not an actual living breathing human being which I am. It’s not necessary and is hurtful. It’s putting a story above a person, it’s hurtful, and I don’t see how you thought this was an okay thing to do. 

[matthewbane]

jace wayland has bpd

jace is heavily coded as borderline, and i wanted to create a masterpost of sorts about jace and his symptoms as a reference for myself and anyone else interested in this headcanon :)

what is bpd?

bpd stands for borderline personality disorder, a mental illness that impacts a person’s ability to regulate their emotions and manage relationships. it is also characterized by fear of abandonment, unstable self-image, black and white thinking, impulsivity, feelings of emptiness, and dangerous behaviors.

below the cut, i’ve presented all of the evidence i have noticed supporting the headcanon that jace has bpd. if you have any questions or comments, my ask box is always open!

*content warning for mentions of abuse, death, suicide, self-harm, and alcohol*

how does jace exhibit bpd?

1. extreme fear of abandonment

in 1x12, jace becomes preoccupied by the idea that jocelyn abandoned him as a child

jace: “at best, jocelyn is the woman who abandoned me.” clary: “hey, that is not true. my mother would never abandon her son. she thought you were dead.” jace: “or maybe she just didn't want me.”

valentine manipulates jace by reinforcing this belief in 2x01 - jace: “you told me i never had a mother.” valentine: “what did you want me to say? that i saved you and that your mother deserted you? she left you to die in idris.”

in 2x08, under iris’ magic, jace hallucinates that maryse wants to disown and kill him

maryse: “max is right. you're not his brother. you were a ten-year-old left on our doorstep. we had no choice but to take you in.” 

this exemplifies how jace feels like a stray (1x02) and one of his biggest fears is that the lightwoods don’t actually care about him

jace’s turbulent relationships means he constantly “loses” the people close to him

jace suffered real abandonment as well: he believed that his birth parents were both deceased

2x03 - jace: “i know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

2x03 - jace: “please don’t leave me, alec.” (as opposed to saying “please don’t die,” jace emphasizes his relationship with alec)

i think one reason why the parabatai ceremony is appealing to jace is that it links him and alec together forever. it ensures that until death, jace will never be truly alone

2x03 - jace: “once we get our parabatai runes, we’ll officially be brothers. nothing can change that.”

2. Favorite Person™: clary

a favorite person (fp) refers to someone that a person with bpd is emotionally dependent on and often infatuated with. they idealize this person, to the point of changing opinions and behaviors to gain their approval [x]. not all people with bpd have an fp, and some lose/gain fps over time, but having a favorite person is a well-known and common bpd experience. 

i have written about this before here, but i will gladly reiterate my thoughts. i believe that clary is jace’s favorite person. he meets clary and within a matter of hours has prioritized her needs over everything else, acting more reckless and delinquent than usual in order to gain clary’s approval. he also idealizes her, very often taking her side in arguments and reassuring her that bad events that happen aren’t her fault. here are some examples of jace treating clary like his fp: 

1x03 - jace: “this isn’t about the mundane, this is about clary.”

1x07 - clary: “right now, clary is the only thing that matters.”

1x09 - alec: “you always broke the rules, but never the law, not until [clary] showed up.”

1x12 - jace: “i know it seems like i've been making a lot of crazy choices lately. and i know you think that i was only thinking about myself and clary, and i wasn't thinking about the consequences to anyone else.”

2x07 - jace: “alec sent you? tell him I’m off duty.” luke: “it’s clary. she’s in trouble.” [jace immediately goes to help]

3. identity disturbance: unstable self-image or sense of self

he grew up thinking his father was Michael Wayland, who has passed away--but wait, he’s alive--oh wait, his dad was actually Valentine the whole time--oh, and Jocelyn is also his mother and Clary, his sister--oh wait, nope, he’s actually not related to Valentine or Jocelyn--oh wai... 

his status as a lightwood is also... inconsistent

1x12 - jace: “i don’t know who i am anymore. there’s darkness in me. it’s always been there.”

here’s a great gifset about jace’s unstable identity

people with bpd tend to enjoy labeling ourselves because it helps to solidify our identity and explain our experiences. jace is labeled in two main ways: 

he’s often known as The Best Shadowhunter™  “fastest, strongest, fiercest” (1x02) / “our best soldier” (1x08) /  “the legend, jace wayland” (1x09) / “a legend in idris” (1x09)

and he’s the stereotypical Attractive Guy™ “I’m denying [mundanes] all this.” [gestures to his body] (1x02) / “hello, have you seen the guy?” (1x02) / hooking up with seelies (2x07) / giving simon dating advice (2x07)

jace plays up those stereotypes, even though we know he isn’t as cocky and confident as he seems, because they help give him an identity, a mask, a grip on Who He Is

4. identity disturbance: black & white thinking

people with bpd often suffer from black & white thinking - people, including ourselves, are either Good or Bad and we have trouble distinguishing the gray area in between. after discovering that he was raised by valentine and that he was injected with demon blood, jace believes that he is inherently Bad™ (+and valentine encourages this way of thinking)

1x11 - jace: “there’s something wrong with me.”

1x11 - clary: “[your father] broke your falcon’s neck.” jace: “i ruined it.”

1x13 - alec: “you can’t let [valentine] control you like this! this isn’t you!” jace: “it is me. it’s always been me. he raised me to be a killer.”

1x13 - clary: “you’re not like him. i’m not! you’re not!” jace: “you don’t know that, clary.”

2x04 - victor: “’to love is to destroy.’ [...] do you agree with that sentiment?” jace: “yes.”

jace believes he will hurt the people he loves and that anyone he loves will die or leave him

this way of thinking is also manipulated by valentine, who makes jace believe that he is inherently bad and dangerous // more about this: here, here, and here.

2x01 - valentine manipulates jace into killing turned shadowhunters and multiple downworlders

2x01 - valentine: “even a single drop of demon blood running in your veins makes you a threat to humanity.”

2x01 - valentine: “you really think love will keep you from hurting your family and friends? no matter how hard you fight it, demon blood will make you kill.”

2x10 - valentine preys on jace’s self-destructive/sacrificial tendencies and tricks him into grabbing the soul sword, making him responsible for killing dozens of downworlders

5. impulsivity in potentially self-damaging ways (e.g., substance abuse, reckless driving, etc)

jace is canonically self-destructive, known to be reckless, and often disregards authority 

1x03 - jace purposefully antagonizes and steals a vampire’s motorcycle

1x09 - alec to jace: “you always broke the rules”

1x13 - jace disappears without warning, and decides to contact valentine and return to him without consulting anyone else (alec: “he went after valentine by himself. it’s like he totally lost it. i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen.”)

2x07 - jace is promiscuous, possibly using sex as self-harm

2x09 - jace leaves simon and clary, without warning and against simon’s judgement, to confront valentine and save madzie alone

2x10 - jace grabs the soul sword, despite believing it will kill him

we can also infer that jace uses alcohol as a coping mechanism 

6. suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

some examples where we can infer jace as suicidal:

1x09 - jace: “i don’t want to be alive if we’re on different sides, alec.”

2x03 - jace: “my brother is counting on me. you can kill me, just please let me get to him first.”

2x04 - after victor’s questioning, jace tries to kill himself with the soul sword

2x10 - simon: “i would have killed you.” jace: “i would have let you.”

2x10 - jace goes through with the suicide mission to grab the soul sword

7. highly emotional with bouts of intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (often followed by intense shame/guilt)

jace has angry outbursts at alec in 1x03, 1x05, 1x09, 1x11, and 2x07

jace apologizes in 1x12

1x13 - jace is so angry while fighting hodge that he needs to be stopped by alec

2x01 - jace impulsively flings a kitchen knife at valentine

2x05 - jace: “clary, i spent my whole life fighting my emotions.”

8. chronic feelings of emptiness or severe dissociative symptoms.

1x02 - jace: “it's cute. you assume i have feelings.” 

in 2x01, valentine disguises as clary and baits jace into trying to escape from the ship before revealing that he wasn’t actually clary. this isn’t an example of dissociation itself, but the fact that val manipulates jace’s sense of reality may affect his ability to distinguish real from unreal, friend from foe, etc even after he escapes from the ship

2x05 - while in prison, jace has a nightmare of stabbing clary

2x05 - clary: “how do you feel?” jace: “i don’t know.”

2x07 - jace hooks up with kaelie at magnus’ loft, and then is later seen at the hunter’s moon with several other women. as mentioned earlier, this is speculation, but i think jace is acting out, trying to fill an emptiness re: his still strained relationships with clary and alec, his lack of purpose at the institute, etc. he’s seeking attention, and desperately wants to feel Something

resources

bpd diagnostic criteria @shitborderlinesdo faq part 1, part 2 bpd in the dsm-5 [pg. 663-667] my bpd jace tag

[ryik-the-writer]

Rumbelle fic: A Sitting Deal

A Sitting Deal 1/6

A03 LInk

Rating: T+

Summary: With the threat of a rent increase being held over her head, Lacey E. French makes a deal with Mr. Gold to babysit his three-year-old son. Soon however the town troublemaker finds herself getting close to her landlord and son...which just can’t be good!

Note: for my Rumbelle Secret Santa recipient @of-princes-and-savages based off the prompt: Hey, who’s kid is this!

 I’ve admired your blog for years and I’m so glad I got you this year! I really hope you like it! 

Special thanks to @thatravenclawbitch for ‘parental advice’ and @pissedoffatouat for the convos and helping me name this damn thing!

“Hey! Who’s kid is this!”

The exclamation came from the one and only Lacey Eloise French (though a total of two people in the entire world knew her forbidden middle name), who now had the Rabbit Hole’s full-blown attention.

It had been a regular Friday night for the town troublemaker: a quick breakfast of dry toast and shot of whiskey (for the hangover she received for Thursday night’s shenanigans), a quiet afternoon of sneaking chapters in Storybrooke’s undersaturated selection of books (because Lacey E. French was not about to let anyone know her secret passion of reading), and a routine evening of flirting for free drinks and pool hustling so she could make rent and buy more cheap bread and whiskey for the next major hangover.

Yet the weight of a pair of pudgy arms wrapped tightly around her stocking-clad thigh changed Lacey’s night—and life, as she would soon find out—forever.

Her eye twitched when she looked down at the curly haired something or other wrapped around her leg. Who the everlasting hell would let a kid into a bar?

She looked around for a frantic parent—though she knew good and well she wouldn’t find one. Anyone who would bring their kid into a place like the Rabbit Hole was obviously a subpar caregiver at best. Probably someone who had kids before they were ready and used precious moments to wallow in their regret rather than use that time to hone some decent parental skills.

“Hey…kid?”

A pair of large glassy brown eyes looked up at her, and Lacey felt a strange jolt in her gut.

Now, Lacey didn’t hate children, but she sure as hell didn’t like them. Kids were loud and sticky and hyper, and they required a certain softness that Lacey just didn’t possess.

Still, there was one clinging to her like a drunk would a toilet, and she couldn’t deny that she was just a bit concerned. What if he was fleeing a kidnapper, or what if his parent was drunk off their ass and bleeding to death somewhere?

“Are you…” she paused. What did you say to crying children? Wasn’t there a stranger danger law she was supposed to help uphold?

“Bae!”

Lacey tensed, and this time not from the tiny nails sinking into her flesh.

She knew that voice all too well, even if it was being released in one syllable. She heard it sometimes in the echo of her apartment building when her neighbors were behind on rent.

In a moment, a pair of shiny black shoes were in front of her. A pan up from said shoes revealed a well-tailored suit, and finally the intense glare from one Mr. Gold—Lacey’s landlord and the town nightmare.

And he was staring at Lacey like she had just keyed his car.

Beside him was Chuck, the manager of the Rabbit Hole, scared for his life.

“What are you doing to my son, Miss French?” he inquired, his voice low and as dangerous as venom.

It was on the tip of Lacey’s dried tongue to tell him to back the hell off, she hadn’t done shit. But when she looked down at the boy once more, she noticed that she had subconsciously threated her fingers in the boys impossibly small curls—a sort of subconscious coping mechanism to comfort the distressed creature in front of her.

Then the other thought: when the hell had Gold gotten a kid?

Lacey French and First Name Unknown Gold were hardly close, but they had a few run-ins through the years. Sideways glances on the streets in the middle of the night, brushes of the skins as they picked up food at Granny’s. Little things that didn’t really mean anything or added anything to their non-existent relationship.

But when Lacey stopped to think about it, she wondered if it was something.

At the moment she hoped that little something was enough to stop Gold from calling the cops on her for assumed kidnapping.

“I…bugger off kid!” she hissed, carefully prying the boy’s hands from her hip.

The boy obeyed and turned his face into Gold’s pants leg, the man instantly cupping the boy’s curls as Lacey had.

“Oh, Mr. Gold!”

Lacey looked up to see Crystal the day bartender bounding towards him.

“I’m so sorry, I looked away for a minute!”

“A minute is all it takes,” Gold growled. “for my son to get kidnapped, or to run out and get hit by a car!”

Chuck was quiet, but his eyes were fearful.

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“You can forget that extension on the rent.” Gold said, turning to Chuck. “We’re done.”

Lacey flinched at the tension in the bar. She was hardly friends with Chuck are Crystal, but they never gave her grief about her tab or the fights she would start over unpaid pool bets.

It was that semi-form of respect that made her stupidly speak up.

“And you don’t think it’s your own fault for bringing a toddler into a freaking bar?” she snarked.

Gold turned to her, a warning in his eyes. “What was that, Miss French?”

Lacey knew the warning, knew she would suffer greatly if she told him just what she thought. But damn it Lacey E. French spoke her mind and held nothing back.

“I’m just saying, don’t push your kid in front of a car unless you’re sure it’s not going to hit him.” Her tone was steady, but she did lower her gaze down to her pool cue. “And don’t bring your kid to a bar unless it soberbility day or something.”

She heard one of her opponents hiss. She was about to get it.

But Gold only stared at her, his expression dark and exhausted. Even under the muggy light of the pool hall she could see the bags weighing down his eyes.

Maybe it was his sheer exhaustion that kept him from bringing down his full wrath—or perhaps it was the child clinging to his leg.

Either way his repercussion came in the form of a very quiet but very damaging growl.

“I suggest you mind your own business, Miss French, and.”before you find yourself in trouble that even you can’t get out of. Consider your rent raised as well,”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” she shouted.

Gold didn’t answer, but instead picked up his small son, unstably limping out of the much quieter bar with the boy’s face nestled deep in his shoulder.

Lacey managed to keep a stone face until he exited the premises, but as soon as the door closed behind him, she took her pool cue and splintered it over the nearest bar stool.

“Son of a bitch!” Lacey snarled, kicking away the splintered pieces away with her heeled boot.

“You’re going to have to pay for that, Lace,” sputtered Chuck.

Lacey turned an exasperated look at the bar manager. “I’ll break another one over your fucking face!” she hissed, storming out and throwing a middle finger over her back while her pool buddies howled with laughter.

Outside the cool night air did little to settle her foul mood. Why did she ever try to help anyone when she knew she’d get stabbed in the back seconds later?

“Fuck!” she yelled, rubbing her barely insolated jacket to keep her arms warm. She thought about what she could do as she hustled down the street. She could swallow her pride and ask her dad for a loan, but she be damn if she admitted she needed anything from him. Granny had always made off-handed remarks about “needing some damn help” around her diner, but Lacey would rather be homeless than serve the assholes she played pool with in a short skirt for little to no tips.

There was a time when she didn’t have to worry about making it day to day. She once had ambitions—had dreams, even. She wanted to travel, to get a degree, to have a library. She wanted to have something bigger than a life of pool hustling and drinking…

Like Belle did.

Lacey’s bitterness mulled over as she thought about her twin sister. One would think they weren’t sisters at all by the way they acted. Lacey was always the troublemaker, the rebel without a cause who lived in each moment. Belle was structured, always planning a head even when both their futures seemed uncertain.

They’d never been friends or overly close the way some sisters were, but there was never any bad blood between them.

It wasn’t until the day Belle whisked herself away to Boston for college that Lacey was hit with a crushing realization: her only sister was gone, and for her own benefit, would probably never return.

Now Lacey craved those scattered phone calls she made every other month. Her life was good. She’d even started dating her grumpy but whoafully intelligent ex-physics professor. Her life was good, and Lacey was happy for her, really. But she missed her. Because with Belle around, somehow Lacey thought everything would be alright.

Lacey sighed. Where was that ray of hope now?

Just ahead she could see the end of Mr. Gold’s Cadillac come to a stop at a red light. Her blood boiled at the thought of his impassive smirk and judgmental eyes. What gave him the right to go around screwing up her life?

And screw up someone else’s life at that.

When did Gold get a kid?

A kid who apparently had to go with his pop on dangerous business ventures.

It was odd, and while Lacey could give a hoot less, she wondered why Gold hadn’t hired a sitter or sent him to Storybrooke’s sole daycare.

Then again, most people were terrified of Mr. Gold. Who’s to say the same courtesy didn’t extend to his son?

Lacey puzzled on the matter as she reached her apartment and kicked off her heels, fishing a half bottle of wine from the back of the fridge.

The alcohol buzzed through her quickly, tainting her thoughts and filling her brain with mixed messages.

She wouldn’t have her rent by the morning, that much was apparent. And somehow she hoped Gold would be too busy with his son that he wouldn’t be worried about her not having it in on time.

Lacey blinked, the thought refusing to flow away along with the alcohol in her system.  

A father with a business to run and a kid to take care of.

Could this be the end of the terrifying Mr. Gold?

Well, Lacey though with a mischievous sip of her wine, there was only one way to find out.